The Pain of Trusting You
by jayL1398
Summary: Frank is abused by his homophobic father. His best friend ditched him long ago because of the fact that he was gay. He's been bullied and has a secret that could make his life even worse if it got out. Question is, can Gerard fix what he broke? Frerard.
1. The Reason

"You're such a freak!" my father yells at me as I run down the stairs and out of his grip. "I should have left you and your mother when I had the chance."

_Don't listen to him, Frank. Just block him out._

"You emo fag! You'll never fit in! Nobody would want you as a boyfriend!"

_Don't listen. Don't listen. Don't listen._

It was the truth though. Frank Iero, emo fag. Freak. That's all I ever heard these days. Of course I was a freak. What boy should be able to successfully reproduce?

The doctors didn't even know until I was fourteen and did some tests. To this day, I still don't even know how it's possible. Or how they found out. Obviously, my father didn't take the news well, let alone that I was gay. My mother, on the other hand, was supportive of my sexuality. She always asked if there were any new boys at school that were likeable.

I never understood why my father acted like this because of something I can't exactly control. I mean, you exactly control who you love, right? Or that it's possible for you to have children. Was it because I wasn't the man he would've wanted for a son? Because I'm never going to be like him? I'm not going to be normal? Come to think of it, he never really showed that he liked me anyway.

Yeah, I hate myself, too. At least we can agree on something, even if it is about hating me.

I slam the door behind me as I continue running forward. That asshole took a broken beer bottle to my throat again. Lovely, right? Not only was he a homophobic bastard, but an alcoholic, drug addict. I can't wait until the day that I get to move out.

As soon as I'm a block away, I look around with caution and slow down to a walk. I pass a fire hydrant and remember a dark scene from this day, last year. A group of jocks found me and beat me senseless. The leader of their group claimed that I "looked at his girlfriend wrong". Oh yeah, of course, the 'emo fag' was looking at some cheerleader slut like she was sexy. Um, serioulsly?

Up another block was where I was once kidnapped by college students, and then three streets over and two weeks later, I was help at gunpoint. I have had great experiences in high school.

Lucky me, today is the first day of a new school year. That could be both interpreted badly and nicely. Badly because it would mean being bullied again. Nicely because I wouldn't have to deal with my father so much.

Who knows, I might actually make some new friends this year, even though I seriously doubt that. Nobody would want to hang out with me.

I once had this friend who seemed pretty cool. His name is Gerard and we used to be really tight. Then I came out and that changed everything between us. We used to play video games at his house every Friday night and I'd always spent the night because he knew about my dad. We used to text nonstop and listen to the best rock bands ever, too. Then when I told him I was gay, it was like he just dropped me. I would call out his name in the halls and he'd only look back once to see who it was before turning and running in the other direction. When I would try to text him he would never reply. I always tried to get his attention in class, but he wouldn't dare look at me.

So after a few months, I stopped trying. Stopped trying to get his attention, to text him, to call him, to talk to his other friends, stopped everything. He is the reason that I first attempted to take my own life. I felt that if he didn't care for me, and my father didn't care for me, then what value did I have? None.

There is this one girl that's nice to me though. And I guess you could consider her my friend. Her name's Amy. She's like rocker, goth, emo, kandi kid all at once. She even gave me a bracelet once, one that I'm wearing now.

I look down at it and remember when we first met. I was at a park, walking all alone, and there she was. She was…fearless to say the least. For all she knew, I could have been a crazy serial rapist but she just walked right up to me and said, "Hey, emo boy, nice jacket. My name's Amy and I thought you looked cool." Yeah, it was a pretty weird way to introduce herself, but it was nice, too.

I'm almost to the school now, thankfully. I seriously need to buy me some new shoes as these are way too small. They hurt my feet like shit whenever I walk in them, especially long distances. The icy air is nice though, chilled just the way I like it.

Rounding the corner and turning onto the crosswalk, I'm almost run over by a jerk in a red car. He flips me off as I stumble backwards. Great way to start of the day, I can't wait to see what else is in store for me.

On the second try, I'm able to successfully cross the street without getting killed. And here I am, the little shit-hole us kids call school. Home of the druggies, gangs, and one really screwed up emo fag. Even as I walk up I'm greeted with the many different names that have stuck since childhood.

And there he is again, that boy that ditched me only because I confided in him that I was gay. As I cross the parking lot, I see him get out of his car. Well, I see the back of his head, and that's all that I need to see of him to know its Gerard.

I keep telling myself that what he did was wrong, but part of me wants him back. Part of me wishes that he didn't react the way he did. But he did, and what's done is done.

So that's why I'm so surprised at what happens next.

I walk by, pausing only for a second to observe the guy who used to be my friend a very long time ago before ditching me. Yes, he does look at me, but what I didn't expect was the wave of his hand and the smile on his lips.

"Hey," he says to me casually. At least I think it's to me. He's looking at me, right? Yes, he is, and he's also expecting an answer.

That is one thing he will not have the satisfaction of getting.

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**A/N: Hey guys! I'm really very sorry that I've taken forever to update stuff. So here's the new Frankie POV I promised. The next chapter of To The End should be updated within the next two days. If it's not, then feel free to come to my house with pitchforks and torches and just burn my place down. I'd understand.**

**Much love, jayL**


	2. I'm Falling Again

School sucks, that I know. You know all the preppy bitches that say school is amazing? Yeah, don't listen to them. Listen to me if you want to know what goes on here, and I can guarantee you that it is not amazing.

All my teachers are in a shitty mood and don't really give a fuck if we're interested or not. I've spent pretty much the whole day just staring blankly out the window, not paying any attention to the constant drone from Mr. Fare's mouth.

A knock on the door brings me from my daydreams and when I look up…well I wish I hadn't. It's him in the doorway with a note in his hands.

"Hello," Gerard starts. "I'm sorry that I'm late. I got confused as to where my classes are, but I got this note to excuse my tardy."

Mr. Fare takes the note from him and, noticeably, tries not to stand within an arm's reach of Gerard. I smile at that, even though he does that to all of his students. As he reads it his nose crinkles up and he adjusts his glasses. "Ahh, yes, Gerard," he says. "Why don't you go take that seat next to Frank? Mr. Iero, please raise your hand."

Gerard looks to me and in return I only glare. "He knows who I am," I tell Mr. Fares.

He shrugs and continues on with his drone after saying, "Very well then."

Gerard makes his way over to the desk next to mine with a small smile on his lips. "Hey again," he whispers. I do my best to ignore him like he had to me for oh so long. _You ruined this,_ I direct to him in my mind.

I stay silent and watch children across the street play. Thank God for windows and random distractions. The two kids play cheerfully with effortless happiness, something I wish I had. They look so…innocent. They seem unknowing to the world that can be so cruel.

"Look Frank-" he begins before I shake my head and cut him off. No, I will not let him into my life again. I can't, because if I do then I'm only going to end up breaking again.

But that's impossible. I'm already broken, still broken in fact.

He chooses to ignore my rejection. "I'm really-" he starts again.

"Don't you dare say that you're sorry, Gerard," I finally say to him. "Just…don't bother talking to me."

Gerard nods, unwillingly almost, but goes out of his way to get my attention for the rest of class. Nudging me 'accidentally', humming loudly, trying to get into my peripheral view, clearing his throat excessively.

_He has no right to do this, _I think to myself as I walk to my locker after the bell rings. _No right at all._ It's true, really. You don't just let someone pour their heart out in front of you every day just to end up letting them fall behind in the end. You aren't supposed to be the reason that they break. But that's what happened, and it's not my fault.

It's not my fault that I'm gay. I didn't choose this. If I knew that it meant constant bullying and teasing, and if I had a choice, then I never would have chosen this. I mean, I'd respect those that come out of course, I'm no homophobe, but I wouldn't choose to be gay. Sadly, I didn't get that choice. It was chosen for me.

Lunch is up next. I have half of a cheese sandwich that I eat alone under an oak tree. We're allowed to sit wherever we want outside, thankfully. If we had to eat close to each other then I'd probably end up getting called fabulous names again. So far there haven't been any people coming up to me and trying to get me to engage in conversation.

The day isn't even over yet, and for no reason at all, I want to start crying. I want to break down. I want to feel the pain and comfort that only my little metal friend can provide for me. I want to self destruct.

The bell rings about half an hour after I finish my sandwich, signaling lunch is over. Apparently, my schedule is very similar to Gerard's. We have the next class with each other, then we go our separate ways, only to sit next to each other again in Mrs. Miller's class.

At least he hasn't tried to talk to me anymore. He does continue on trying to get my attention by humming, but I easily ignore it. Thankfully Amy shares this class with me as well. She sits to the left of the desk in front of me.

"Are you okay?" she mouths to me with her back to the teacher, who doesn't seem to even care. I shake my head and wonder how I must look for her to ask me this.

"I'm fine," I try to whisper back. Amy eyes me carefully and I see her eyes drift onto Gerard. I told her about what happened between the two of us long ago, around the time that we had met actually.

"Are you sure?" Concern is evident on her face. I give a stiff shake of my head and immediately feel the tears settling in. Why I feel like crying, I have no idea. My lip quivers slowly until I'm forced to bite it to hold everything back. Here is not the place for this. I will wait until I'm home to let everything loose.

Determined to keep talking to me, she gets out a notebook and a pen. Her hand scribbles words before she holds it up for me to read. "Well school's almost over. Then you can go home," it says.

That doesn't help. If anything, it makes me feel worse, because now I remember what I have to go back to when I leave. I go back to an abusive father and a mother who can barely stand up for me in fear of being killed, herself. In defeat, I cross my arms and force my head down with an audible thud.

Another thirty seconds go by, filled with suppressed hyperventilation and anxiety and fear, and a piece of paper is thrown at me. I look up and Amy's eyes are trained on me. "I'm sorry," she whispers and points to the paper. I open it and see the words, "You can always come over to my house. My parents won't care."

I look back up to her, then back to the paper. I scribble, "My dad probably won't let me," in horrible handwriting and toss it back to her. Amy reads, shrugs, and mouths, "I'm sorry."

Gerard catches my attention by nudging me again. "Oh, Frank, I'm sorry, again," he mutters under his breath.

I look at him and…well…it's unfortunate to say that I'm dazzled. This is the first time that I've actually payed attention to his face since the day started, I guess. Truth is I had a small crush on him when we were friends, but nothing serious. Nothing serious at all. But now that I look at his face, I feel as if I'm falling back into his eyes like I had so many times before.

The only difference is that I'm falling faster and much, much harder.

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**A/N: Hello my lovelies :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for loads more to come, same goes for To The End!**

**-jayL**


	3. Not Friends

The last bell confirmed school was officially done for the day as Amy and I walked towards the parking lot. We had, surprisingly, moved much quicker than the other students and happened to leave the class before them. Gerard is nowhere in sight but his car is still here. He just must be trapped in the sea of students.

"So," Amy begins. "Gera-"

"I don't want to talk about him. Or anything to do with him, for that matter," I say coldly and cut her off.

She responds by staying silent and looking ahead of her. About fifteen seconds pass by before she says, "okay."

The sound of her voice shakes me. "Okay! Fine, I'll talk! So first off, we were best friends, practically inseparable. Then I tell him this secret, you know, about me being gay? And then he just…he just dumps me and I felt like I was nothing. I still feel like I'm nothing. And now he just tries to talk to me and get my attention just like everything's fine."

Amy nods her head. This is one thing I absolutely love about her; she understands _everything. _I have no idea what I'd do without her. She's always so wise and quick and witty. Well, most of the time.

"I don't know what you can do, Frank," she says. "But all I can say is that I don't think it was right of him at all. Maybe you can get him to understand how hard he's made it for you? Do you think you could do that? If he understands how badly he's hurt you and says that he's sorry, maybe then you could forgive him?

I think it over for a moment before shaking my head. "I don't think he can fix this, Amy. He's already hurt me so much."

She looks away from me again and nods. "You liked him didn't you? I mean liked him, liked him?"

I shrug. "I always had a small crush on him when we were friends. It wasn't a big deal at all."

"But what about now? Has it changed now that you have to sit next to him in most of your classes?" Amy asks.

"No," I say. It has to be true, right? I'm not lying, because I do not like him. I don't like him, and I won't. I'll do whatever it takes not to like him, even if it means ignoring his existence and not looking at him. Whatever it is I have to do, I'll do it. I won't let myself get close to him.

"Sure," is all she says.

Now it's time for us to depart. I hug her, and she returns it but with an extra squeeze towards the end. I don't want to go home but instead be frozen in this moment forever. I just want to stay like this and feel secure with my friend's arms around me. I don't want to go home and be told how useless I am. I don't need to be told how pathetic I am.

"Everything will be okay," she says before releasing me. "Call me if you need to."

I nod and turn in the direction of which I'm heading. Cars filled with screaming and laughing teenagers pass by me. "Freak," one passing teen screams toward me. I know.

"Freak show," another one from another car yells. Don't remind me.

"Go cut yourself," one screams. That won't help me, trust me.

"You're pathetic!" Yeah, I know.

The insults seem to go on and on with each passing car. It's almost like they planned this. It's like they all came together after school and planned to ruin my day even more. Well, if that is what they planned then they succeeded.

I hear another car from behind me, then a honk, and then the breaks. _Oh great. They're coming to beat me up,_ I think to myself. It would be the first time, really. And who wouldn't want to take a crack at the emo kid? Who wouldn't want to torture the pathetic fag? I don't even bother looking back when I stop in my tracks.

"Go ahead. Hit me," I say. "What are you waiting for? Just do it and get it over with."

I stand there impatiently for fifteen seconds. Nothing. No blow to the head, no kick to the back of my leg. I just stand there, most likely looking pathetic, waiting for the pain to come.

"Well?" I ask impatiently. "You gonna' do it?"

"I'm not going to hurt you Frankie," his voice says. Oh god, no. "We were friends. In my mind, we still are friends. I'm not going to hurt you."

I'm momentarily stunned before I answer. "It never stopped you before." I start walking again. He won't control me. I will not talk to him.

_We're not friends,_ I tell myself. _We're not friends. We're not friends. You're not my friend, and I'm not yours._

He doesn't follow me thankfully. I hear the engine start up again and make sure that I don't look when he passes me. I could feel eyes on me, though. Why would Gerard even want to talk to me? He ruined everything in the first place. He ruined it all.

_Or did I?_

No, that's stupid. I didn't ruin it. How would I have ruined it? By telling him I was gay? That's stupid, yet understandable. How would this be different if I hadn't told him? Would he have eventually found out anyway? What was his problem with me being gay anyway?

Before I know it I'm standing in front of the lawn of my house. The car is gone so I'm hopeful that he's not here. I walk up to the door, take a deep breath, and thrust the door open. Almost like tearing off a bandage instead of slowing peeling it. You just want to get it done as quick as possible.

All hope is diminished when I see him, passed out drunk on the torn up sofa. Maybe if I'm quiet enough, he'll stay that way. I slowly walk toward the stairs knowing that a quick trip to the kitchen would be too noisy to attempt. My hunger can wait anyway. I raise my foot to take the first step of the stairs and then a hand clasps onto my shoulder. I whip myself around and am faced with the horrible breath of an alcoholic.

He smiles with terrifying enthusiasm as yellow teeth show between his lips. Before pushing me backwards onto the stairs he whispers one line. Yet it's one line I've grown accustomed to.

"Welcome back, faggot."

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**A/N- SORRY GUYS! I know I said I'd do it earlier but I forgot -_-. Well there it is! I don't know about you guys, but I don't like Frankie's father much.**


	4. Leaving

"I would ask if you've made any new friends, but I bet you haven't. Who, exactly, would want to be your friend? The emo gag. That's all you are, you know?" He towers over me with a finger extended in my face. "A tiny, pathetic, piece of worthless crap."

I don't say anything. I only lay there and listen to him go on and on about how useless I am. He even goes into how he never wanted me but my mother insisted on keeping me.

"If I had my way, I'd dump you out on the street," he says before hitting me. Right in the eye, too.

His hand comes back before striking again, this time attacking my nose. I hear a crunch and I can just about feel it fill with blood. I watch his hand retreat to his side with stinging eyes. Then he shoves me into the flooring of the stairs while yelling something I can hardly make out. There's a dull yet very painful stabbing feeling in my head and he yells again.

"I said get up! GET UP!" He shoves me back again. I get up, a little too quickly, and turn around to make my way to my bedroom.

I shove the door closed with what small strength I have after I enter. Before I can make my way to the bed I look down and notice the ground coming upward. The flooring is rising and coming to greet my face, or am I falling? I hear a thud before my eyes close and I lose consciousness.

When I wake I find that it's dark both inside and outside of my room. I carefully lift my head from the carpet and notice a small spot of dried blood right next to where my nose would have been. Slowly, I get up from the floor and instead lay down on my bed. The soft comforter is welcoming even though I cannot sleep now. Now, I am wide awake with mixed emotions and too many thoughts.

The emotions? Anger, fury, and rage. Upset, rejected, and afraid. The first three are, indeed, because of my father. The last three are for…well Mr. Way, of course. Well, I could say I feel angry at him as well for making me feel like this. Or, more so, for treating me the way he did.

The thoughts, of course, are targeted at Gerard as well. They're the same ones, replayed in my mind over and over again. Surely, he hates me. But that brings up the question of why he'd try to get my attention or act kind to me. Why would he so those things if he did? No normal person would unless they were looking for forgiveness.

Which brings up the question of should I forgive him? I mean, if he really meant what he was saying, then…

No. I won't. I can't. I will not forgive Gerard. The things I've done because of him and everything he has put me through cannot be forgotten.

A soft knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, thankfully. The door slowly opens until my mother's figure comes into view. A small light is on in the hallway just enough so I can see her face. A small, sad smile plays on her lips.

"Frankie," she whispers. "May I come in?"

Of course I nod and grant her access, but part of me wishes I didn't. I could have acted as if I were sleeping to avoid this. She will obviously want to talk, which is something I don't exactly wish to do right now. I was perfectly fine alone with my thoughts, thank you very much.

With her sitting on the edge of the mattress, I notice something in her hand. A mug with a steamy beverage in it that smells like coffee. Well, maybe letting her in was an okay thing after all if I get coffee.

"Yeah, I brought you this," she says as she extends her arm towards me. I take the mug and give a soft smile in return.

"Thank you," is all I say, all I can say, before she breaks down and begins to cry.

"I'm sorry, Frankie. I'm just so sorry that we have to go through this," she sobs out. "I don't want this life for you, sweetie. If I could do anything different, trust me I would. I'd buy us a house and you could go to the finest school and…and-" The sobbing finally takes over and I can't understand a word she says afterwards.

I shush her and wrap my arms around her, pulling her closer. "It's alright, mom. I'll be fine. A few years, okay?"

She nods her head and wraps her arms around me as well. "I feel so bad, honey."

"Don't mom," I say, shaking my head. "Don't feel bad. Let me deal with dad, okay? It's because of me that he…"

She shakes her head and mouths the word "no." I know netter though, but I let her have the satisfaction and just keep quiet about it. Soon she leaves and I'm left with my mug of coffee that isn't so hot anymore.

Taking small sips, I begin to dread tomorrow. _Or later this morning, _I note when I glance at the digital clock. I don't want to deal with them. I don't want to deal with Gerard or dad, or anyone at school for that matter.

Without thinking, I get up from my bed and walk over to my desk. I pick up a pen and tear off half of a blank piece of printer paper. Before I even realize it, I'm scribbling down a message.

_Mom, it's 1:27 and I decided I'm leaving. Don't worry, I'm not running away. I'll be back after school tomorrow. I just can't be here right now. I love you. I do have my phone, but please do not contact me. I'll have my backpack and some money and my pocket knife. I'll be fine. Bye._

I look down at the note and smile to myself. Even if I'm not okay by morning, the world will keep spinning. If I'm jumped, it will be no big deal. I won't be missed, except by my mother of course.

I grab the note and spin around to grab my backpack. Opening the end table next to my bed, I find my new pack of cigarettes and a black lighter along with a couple twenties. My pocket knife is already in my backpack, even though I know I can get in serious trouble if the staff at school found out I was carrying one. Not that I care about them, or anything.

I slowly inch the door open and am relieved to see no lights on in the house. My father's snoring is loud in his and my mom's room which is another plus. I doubt that my mom would be downstairs, and luckily for me she isn't. I drop the note right by her purse and swiftly unlock the front the door. I slip past it and let the cold air burn my lungs.

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**A/N: Oh gosh guys, I'm really sorry! I've just lost interest in writing, you know? Or basically everything I had interest in. Been a bit disappointed because I'm not able to get a puppy my neighbors (or once neighbors) are offering us. Hmm.**

**Anyway, I know it's a bit short considering how long it's been since I last updated. Hope you enjoyed. If you do then remember, constructive criticism is always welcome. **

**Oh and you might be getting some Frostiron your way, guys. Just uh, thought you should know. **


	5. An Explanation

**A/N: *ahem* Please excuse the language in this chapter. Frank seems to be in a bit of a mood to think the eff-bomb a lot. Anyway, Gerard kind of explains. You'll see. And if you ship Frostiron at all, go take a look at my story, A Trickster's Love, please? **

**Oh and review, maybe? I want to know if this is meeting standards or not. Thank you :)**

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I walk over to the swing set in the park and plop down on the first one. Sitting on swings is always much more entertaining than sitting on benches, no matter what people tell you about maturity. Besides, what the hell are you even doing in a park if you're so damn mature?

I reach for my fresh pack of cigarettes. It's been, what, 30 hours since I last had a smoke? And damn, I am in dying need of one right now. All the stress of my dad and my mom and Gerard gets to me too much. Of course, what exactly do I expect? It's not like I can expect myself to hear what they have to say and then be all fine and dandy with it all.

I light my 'cancer stick' up and damn, it feels so good to be out of that hell house. Just to be out in the open air and to be able to fucking _breathe _is the most amazing sensation in the world right now. I feel the smoke travel down my throat and into my lungs before exhaling. The smoky, sweet taste heightens my mood.

But then I see him. I mean, it must be him. His shape, his curves. Yes, the man has fucking curves and…well, I have to admit it's not the first time I've noticed. But why am I so awestruck by it right now? I can make out his silhouette in the dark and the street lights are helping a bit, so I'm pretty sure it's him. He's over by the bushes next to those too-fucking-mature benches and I get the feeling that he was here long before I sat down.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I, uh, didn't know you were here," he says. Yep, it's him.

He turns around and is about to walk the opposite way. For some completely fucked up reason, I'm in a surprisingly good (well, better okay?) mood and I feel like nothing could really damage me anymore. Or at least right now, you know? If that makes _any _sense at all.

"Wait," I blurt out and he stops and damn my heart should really stop pounding in my chest right about now.

He turns around really slowly and looks me in the eye. He's standing about twenty feet away. "Yes?" he answers real slow.

"I will give you one chance, Gerard Way. You have one chance to explain to me why the fuck you did what you did. This does not mean that we are friends _on any level_. This does not mean that I forgive you. I just want to know why you..." I thought for a better word but came up with none. "I want to know why you abandoned me."

He nods slowly and cautiously walks up to the swing next to mine and sits in it. About twenty seconds pass before he lets out a breath that he must have been holding in. His eyes are cast down and glued to his feet and I swear that he's shaking. It may be only a little bit and it may be from the cold temperature because he's only wearing a thin jacket, but that small voice in my mind is telling me that he's nervous. And fuck, I am too.

"So, you can start expla-"

"I'm sorry," he blurts out and interrupts me. He's twisted himself so he can look me in the eyes and that look on his face tells me that maybe, just maybe, he isn't lying. And that might possibly be a tear in his right eye but I act as if I haven't seen it.

"Yes, I'm aware. Could you be a bit more specific though?" I ask. For a moment I feel as if it what I said was coldhearted, but then I remember all the pain I had been through. No, it wasn't coldhearted; it was a nice comment compared to what I've been told.

He glances back down at the ground before answering. "I'm sorry for abandoning you. I just…I didn't know what to do." He looks back up and there are tears visibly running down his cheeks now. Just the sight puts a lump in my throat but I force myself to remember to keep a straight face. His bottom lip quivers and I look down at my hands.

"What to do about what?" I ask.

He takes a deep breath, then another. I glance over quickly and see that he's still looking at me so I catch his eyes with mine. Somehow, they speak the truth before he speaks. In some crazy and insane way, I know what he's about to say before it's even put out there and formed into words.

"I…I knew that I was gay. Or maybe I thought I was," he shakes his head as he talks. "But now I know that I am. I'm not completely sure why I freaked out over you telling me what you told me, given the circumstances. It doesn't make sense to me at all, okay? One thing did make sense though. While we were friends, during that entire time when I freaked out, even now. I loved you, Frank. I still love you."

I'm speechless when he pauses. I had suspected many reasons behind him ignoring me, abandoning me, hurting me like he did. But I had never suspected or expected this. He looks back down and stares at either the ground or his hands, I don't know. All I really notice is that he's wearing that beanie I bought him a month into our friendship.

"But I fucked it up. I always fuck everything up, Frank. I can't forgive myself for this. I don't expect you to. Hell, maybe I don't want you to forgive me. You shouldn't forgive me," he continues. "I just…I hate myself so much! There I was, I loved you! I wasn't supposed to hurt you. I wasn't supposed to be such a dick. I was supposed to be there and love you. I wasn't supposed to leave," he say before burying his face in his hands and sobs.

My cigarette is long gone and buried somewhere beneath the rocks under my feet. There are loud crunching noises as I get up from the swing and walk over to him. I know he can hear me, and I'm sure he's expecting me to hit him or something along those lines by the way he looks up at me from his hands.

But what I do is unexpected, even to myself. Here I am, Frank Iero, the kid that's been beating himself up and hating himself because his best friend abandoned him after he said he was gay. And fuck, I'd be a liar if I said I didn't love the asshole. I think I still did during that time. That was why I was so hard on myself. I had always told myself, '_This guy you love, he doesn't love you. He despises you because you're gay.' _

Of course what I do is unexpected. What I should do is yell, scream, hit something. But the fucking sight of him in tears is enough to make me want to crawl into a hole. It make me want to go out and buy ten bottles of beer and drink every last one so I don't have to feel anything. The sound of his sobbing is somehow enough to break me.

What I do is unexpected to both of us. I look down at him and into his eyes long enough to create a small connection. And it's fucking pulling me down. Or maybe that's my imagination going crazy, but I'm leaning down nonetheless. My right hand comes up to rest on his cheek and he lets out a small and shaky breath. Shit, we're both nervous.

I slowly lean closer and closer until our noses brush against each other, and then our lips. It's only feather-light brushes, but it's enough to send electric waves down my spine before I actually push my lips to his. He kisses back, just as eagerly and gentle as I do. The feeling is so amazing that when I break away it's only really because I need air.

Our foreheads rest pressed together and my hand is still on his cheek. He lets out an icy breath that I can just about taste and presses his left hand to my right, keeping it there. I accidentally slip out a giggle before I can restrain myself and mentally slap myself. Gerard is smiling though, so maybe it's not completely bad.

"I've wanted to that for a long time, you know?" I suddenly hear myself say. I slap myself again for involuntarily speaking.

He nods slightly. "I have too."

I'm surprised. But it's a good surprised and, hey just for the fuck of it, I quickly lean my lips in one more time just for a quick kiss before bringing my face back up.

I look down just in time to see a smile cross his face. "So are we good now?" I hear him ask.

My face goes serious once again as I remember the problem at hand. "We'll see."

He nods. "Are we even a little bit better?"

"Yes, I suppose so," I say after visibly thinking it over for a moment.

"Well that's good enough for me, beautiful," he says and damn, my heart needs to slow the fuck down.


End file.
